2002-11-11 14:11![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplineThose of you who've known me a while are acquainted with my poison pen and acid tongue.
I'd forgotten how good it felt to open Ye Olde Can of Whoop-Asse on the undeserving mouthbreathers of the digital realm.
I'm not here to save the world, your minds, or even to clip coupons.
I _am_ here to, as Yosemite Sam put it, "Speak loud, and I carry a _bigger_ stick."
At this point, I'm going to lump everyone here who isn't me into one big collective "you." Unfair as that may be to some of the slightly baffled peripheral participants, spookie-come-latelies, and wry observers who may or may not actually exist. it's far simpler for me. And, frankly, this post is all about me.
Bho has come right out and admitted to blatantly harvesting our email addresses from Yahoogroups, Yahoo profiles, and bathroom stalls in the greater NY metro area to spam with invites. Ambition is all well and good, Bho, and I'm glad you can claim to have the second-biggest *net.vamp.dick* after Feather Todd "King of the Dim-pires" Sabretooth already.
That, and $2.35, should just about get you a latte at Starbucks.
What doing so, however, will get you, is reviled, not to mention blacklisted, and probably any number of other less-savory things that people can (and will) do to each other electronically. I assume that Yahoo's abuse department has already been swamped with complaints. [This has been a friendly reminder from your friends at Kill Switch, Inc.]
Now, as far as what passes for sentient life _here_, that's another matter. I've been asked, "Who are all these people? A bunch of LARPers?" From my admittedly priviledged frame of reference, my answer would be, "Actually, no. I think these folks think they're living the life, and would deride and scorn LARPers as "poseurs," "wannabes," and worse." I don't, as a rule, tend to hold self-important, self-titled, and otherwise ill-advisedly pretentious folk in terribly high regard. [If any of you hate me already, dem's da breaks. I obviously wasn't solicited for my silver tongue or my sunshine enema ability.] At least the gamers have the good taste to admit it's play, and they stop when they're done.
I hate to be the one to break the news to everyone, especially those of you who've invested a lot of time, energy, and money supporting their belief, but I'm afraid that the whole eternal-youth gig ain't there for ya. Just like the joining the SCA isn't going to make you a medieval noble, biting some willing dimp and claiming a title or bloodline doesn't make you a vampire (regardless of spelling). Nobody here is going to be immortal, incredibly powerful, or get burned by a room-temperature crucifix or splash of holy water. [YMMV when it comes to allergies to garlic.]
Vampirism, in the whole Bram Stoker/Anne Rice/Poppy Z. Brite vein (pardon the pun) that y'all seem to be ascribing to it falls, I'm sorry to say, into the realm of fantasy, no matter how much any of us would wish it to be otherwise [I, myself, rather fervently hoped it were true once upon a time. I, however, accepted reality and have moved on].
(courtesy of www.dictionary.com)
fan-ta-sy
n. pl. fan·ta·sies
1. Something, such as an invention, that is a creation of the fancy.
2. A capricious or fantastic idea; a conceit.
3.
1. Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements.
2. An example of such fiction.
4. An imagined event or sequence of mental images, such as a daydream, usually fulfilling a wish or psychological need.
5. An unrealistic or improbable supposition.
From where I sit, that goes five-for-five.
I'm sorry that you need to invent elaborate hierarchies to be able to feel some kind of empowerment in your lives. Clearly, this fantasy has become very, very, _very_ important to some of you.
So important, apparently, that the infighting among members of the NY/NJ goth/vamp horde have found it necessary to not only preside over their own electronic playgrounds, comprehensively cross-pollinated by members of all factions (say what you will, net.goths are nothing if not an incestuous fucking collective). All of those folks who recieved the unsolicited surprise invite, you're being sucked in (again with the puns) because you're being seen as unwitting, unbiased, non-judgemental, and, most importantly (whether Bho admits this or not), _unthinking_ fresh meat to be swayed to his defense against his percieved persecutor(s).
N, I presume this means you spanked his pee-pee for some affront, real or imagined, in some other forum.
And people wonder why I don't associate myself with Vamp people anymore. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, getting so worked up about personal slights in your fantasy lives, and then having the nerve to impose your indignity upon what has now become hundreds of indifferent, or at least uninformed, bystanders.
Just to be clear: There _is_ a world beyond NYC and environs. We're perfectly happy here, and don't care about your local squabbles.
For the sake of all involved, I'll abridge my comments to B & N thusly:
I hold both of you in contempt of myself, for having wasted my time and that of the other people who have cluelessly (or cluefully) signed on for your little digitized pissing contest, and further, for not having the good sense and maturity to comport yourselves like adults. Via personal email.
If your honor is so fucking besmirched, throw down in a goddamned alley like Real Men, and when one of you cries for Mommy, the winner picks him up and you go have a beer, the matter settled. If you need to perform some kind of ritual cleansing or seppukku afterwards, do it in the privacy of your own home, rather than convulse like epileptic mudfish in front of a bunch of strangers.
THAT is honor.
It's deeply unbecoming to throw public tantrums. Besides, it gives those of us with the adult-size clue a bad name when we're percieved to be associated with these histrionics.
I suppose I shouldn't have expected better things. But I'm too used to being an optimist to quit now. [Note: Optimist != Nice Guy, in case the above wasn't sufficiently illustrative]
To the rest of you. you can make up what parts of your minds you want about your continued participation on this list, "the vampire scene" or whatever else this may or may not have caused you to think about. It is, after all, still a free country, as we don't have those handy little Borg implants yet.
There's a very important tenet of being interested in the macabre that I suspect a good many of you have forgotten - the idea of self-deprecating humor. You're not a psi-vamp (whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. . . Is that anything like the plague of brain-suckers that possess the right hands of third-graders nationwide and makes them pulse on the backs of their classmates' heads?). You're not a sanguinarian (sorry, drinking blood recreationally does not equal subsisting on it. . . I can see you stuffing your Subway wrapper under the couch).
You're just people, albeit ones with a specific set of tastes, proclivities, and the like that's sufficiently distinct from "normal society" and close enough together to form the half-assed constellation that's playing host to the drama surrounding this group's founding.
Look in a mirror (yes, I'm afraid that still works, too) as if you were appraising a stranger. Are you catty? Are you counting flaws? Are you wondering what the hell that person is thinking, trying to fit into -that-? Be honest. You look silly. I know, I used to look that way myself. Still do, on occasion.
You know what? I'm okay with looking silly. I'm okay with _you_ looking silly. You need to remember that you're part of a subculture who intentionally gets dolled up to look this way on purpose. For fun.
"What kind of sick bitch are you, pretending to be dead so I'd have sex with you?"
"You only fucked me because you thought I was dead!"
- The Thin H Line (formerly at www.thinhline.com)
Now. . .
I fully expect a lot of you to be very unhappy with me. That's fine. I also have every confidence that everyone's life here will go on its merry little way without any change in trajectory, despite the above show of ego on my part. That's also fine.
** WARNING: This message contains at least one Clue. By reading it, you may have been exposed to ideas that may result in introspection, thought, or action. The Author is fully aware of this, and persists in claiming no responsibility for changes effected on the reader as a result of this exposure. **
-Rafe
PS: Congratulations, you made it to the end. Go do a shot of vodka. I insist.
I'd forgotten how good it felt to open Ye Olde Can of Whoop-Asse on the undeserving mouthbreathers of the digital realm.
I'm not here to save the world, your minds, or even to clip coupons.
I _am_ here to, as Yosemite Sam put it, "Speak loud, and I carry a _bigger_ stick."
At this point, I'm going to lump everyone here who isn't me into one big collective "you." Unfair as that may be to some of the slightly baffled peripheral participants, spookie-come-latelies, and wry observers who may or may not actually exist. it's far simpler for me. And, frankly, this post is all about me.
Bho has come right out and admitted to blatantly harvesting our email addresses from Yahoogroups, Yahoo profiles, and bathroom stalls in the greater NY metro area to spam with invites. Ambition is all well and good, Bho, and I'm glad you can claim to have the second-biggest *net.vamp.dick* after Feather Todd "King of the Dim-pires" Sabretooth already.
That, and $2.35, should just about get you a latte at Starbucks.
What doing so, however, will get you, is reviled, not to mention blacklisted, and probably any number of other less-savory things that people can (and will) do to each other electronically. I assume that Yahoo's abuse department has already been swamped with complaints. [This has been a friendly reminder from your friends at Kill Switch, Inc.]
Now, as far as what passes for sentient life _here_, that's another matter. I've been asked, "Who are all these people? A bunch of LARPers?" From my admittedly priviledged frame of reference, my answer would be, "Actually, no. I think these folks think they're living the life, and would deride and scorn LARPers as "poseurs," "wannabes," and worse." I don't, as a rule, tend to hold self-important, self-titled, and otherwise ill-advisedly pretentious folk in terribly high regard. [If any of you hate me already, dem's da breaks. I obviously wasn't solicited for my silver tongue or my sunshine enema ability.] At least the gamers have the good taste to admit it's play, and they stop when they're done.
I hate to be the one to break the news to everyone, especially those of you who've invested a lot of time, energy, and money supporting their belief, but I'm afraid that the whole eternal-youth gig ain't there for ya. Just like the joining the SCA isn't going to make you a medieval noble, biting some willing dimp and claiming a title or bloodline doesn't make you a vampire (regardless of spelling). Nobody here is going to be immortal, incredibly powerful, or get burned by a room-temperature crucifix or splash of holy water. [YMMV when it comes to allergies to garlic.]
Vampirism, in the whole Bram Stoker/Anne Rice/Poppy Z. Brite vein (pardon the pun) that y'all seem to be ascribing to it falls, I'm sorry to say, into the realm of fantasy, no matter how much any of us would wish it to be otherwise [I, myself, rather fervently hoped it were true once upon a time. I, however, accepted reality and have moved on].
(courtesy of www.dictionary.com)
fan-ta-sy
n. pl. fan·ta·sies
1. Something, such as an invention, that is a creation of the fancy.
2. A capricious or fantastic idea; a conceit.
3.
1. Fiction characterized by highly fanciful or supernatural elements.
2. An example of such fiction.
4. An imagined event or sequence of mental images, such as a daydream, usually fulfilling a wish or psychological need.
5. An unrealistic or improbable supposition.
From where I sit, that goes five-for-five.
I'm sorry that you need to invent elaborate hierarchies to be able to feel some kind of empowerment in your lives. Clearly, this fantasy has become very, very, _very_ important to some of you.
So important, apparently, that the infighting among members of the NY/NJ goth/vamp horde have found it necessary to not only preside over their own electronic playgrounds, comprehensively cross-pollinated by members of all factions (say what you will, net.goths are nothing if not an incestuous fucking collective). All of those folks who recieved the unsolicited surprise invite, you're being sucked in (again with the puns) because you're being seen as unwitting, unbiased, non-judgemental, and, most importantly (whether Bho admits this or not), _unthinking_ fresh meat to be swayed to his defense against his percieved persecutor(s).
N, I presume this means you spanked his pee-pee for some affront, real or imagined, in some other forum.
And people wonder why I don't associate myself with Vamp people anymore. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, getting so worked up about personal slights in your fantasy lives, and then having the nerve to impose your indignity upon what has now become hundreds of indifferent, or at least uninformed, bystanders.
Just to be clear: There _is_ a world beyond NYC and environs. We're perfectly happy here, and don't care about your local squabbles.
For the sake of all involved, I'll abridge my comments to B & N thusly:
I hold both of you in contempt of myself, for having wasted my time and that of the other people who have cluelessly (or cluefully) signed on for your little digitized pissing contest, and further, for not having the good sense and maturity to comport yourselves like adults. Via personal email.
If your honor is so fucking besmirched, throw down in a goddamned alley like Real Men, and when one of you cries for Mommy, the winner picks him up and you go have a beer, the matter settled. If you need to perform some kind of ritual cleansing or seppukku afterwards, do it in the privacy of your own home, rather than convulse like epileptic mudfish in front of a bunch of strangers.
THAT is honor.
It's deeply unbecoming to throw public tantrums. Besides, it gives those of us with the adult-size clue a bad name when we're percieved to be associated with these histrionics.
I suppose I shouldn't have expected better things. But I'm too used to being an optimist to quit now. [Note: Optimist != Nice Guy, in case the above wasn't sufficiently illustrative]
To the rest of you. you can make up what parts of your minds you want about your continued participation on this list, "the vampire scene" or whatever else this may or may not have caused you to think about. It is, after all, still a free country, as we don't have those handy little Borg implants yet.
There's a very important tenet of being interested in the macabre that I suspect a good many of you have forgotten - the idea of self-deprecating humor. You're not a psi-vamp (whatever the fuck that's supposed to be. . . Is that anything like the plague of brain-suckers that possess the right hands of third-graders nationwide and makes them pulse on the backs of their classmates' heads?). You're not a sanguinarian (sorry, drinking blood recreationally does not equal subsisting on it. . . I can see you stuffing your Subway wrapper under the couch).
You're just people, albeit ones with a specific set of tastes, proclivities, and the like that's sufficiently distinct from "normal society" and close enough together to form the half-assed constellation that's playing host to the drama surrounding this group's founding.
Look in a mirror (yes, I'm afraid that still works, too) as if you were appraising a stranger. Are you catty? Are you counting flaws? Are you wondering what the hell that person is thinking, trying to fit into -that-? Be honest. You look silly. I know, I used to look that way myself. Still do, on occasion.
You know what? I'm okay with looking silly. I'm okay with _you_ looking silly. You need to remember that you're part of a subculture who intentionally gets dolled up to look this way on purpose. For fun.
"What kind of sick bitch are you, pretending to be dead so I'd have sex with you?"
"You only fucked me because you thought I was dead!"
- The Thin H Line (formerly at www.thinhline.com)
Now. . .
I fully expect a lot of you to be very unhappy with me. That's fine. I also have every confidence that everyone's life here will go on its merry little way without any change in trajectory, despite the above show of ego on my part. That's also fine.
** WARNING: This message contains at least one Clue. By reading it, you may have been exposed to ideas that may result in introspection, thought, or action. The Author is fully aware of this, and persists in claiming no responsibility for changes effected on the reader as a result of this exposure. **
-Rafe
PS: Congratulations, you made it to the end. Go do a shot of vodka. I insist.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
APPLAUSE!!
Stupid "vampire" boneheads. They actually lay claim to *streets* here, and threaten each other if you walk on their "turf." Hello. The only good thing about them is that they are an easy chuckle.
Re: APPLAUSE!!
Gee to the Oh to the Tee to the Aych.
Transylvania, Brooklyn, Rep-re-ZENT!
I -so- do not miss NYC (other than our all-you-can-eat sushi place).
Re: APPLAUSE!!